


Harsh Lessons

by imaginary_golux



Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Dark, F/M, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Golden Oldies Porn Battle, prompt: Jasmine/Jafar, she’s a fast learner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harsh Lessons

The genie cannot compel love, but Jasmine can fake it well enough. She can drape herself over her lover’s murderer, her father’s usurper, the man upon the stolen throne of Agrabah, and smile, and whisper endearments in his ear. She can pretend to be as vacuous and shallow as her husband thinks she is, as naïve and malleable as she used to be, before…everything.

She can make herself useful, and thereby remove herself from her husband’s suspicious mind. The servants like and respect her, as they did her father, and at her firm direction they make sure her sorcerous usurper husband is cosseted and doted upon, his meals always hot and delicious, his bed warm and soft, his rooms immaculate – even his awful parrot is treated like a prince. (Jasmine does not think of Rajah. There is no place in her planning for grief.) Jasmine herself brings her husband the tastiest tidbits in her own slender hands, fusses endlessly over his comfort, hangs upon his every word.

He is nearly as clever as he thinks he is, but she is much smarter than he ever allows for. The first spell she ever masters is the one which forces deep sleep upon its victim. She waits until he falls asleep naturally each night, then casts it on him, and he rests unwakeable until she releases him at dawn. His parrot, too, she spells, and so there is no one to watch her at her labors.

A woman cannot rule Agrabah alone. The nobility would not stand for it. And Jasmine has no particular desire to be forced into marriage _again_ , as she would be if she got rid of her current husband. But if she had the upper hand…

The genie, she learns by careful questioning, cannot induce love. And in any case, Jasmine does not need her husband to love her. Certainly she does not love _him_. So she studies magic, and she makes her plans, and she suborns the genie – not hard, given its deep-seated hatred for the sorcerer who killed the man who would have freed it – and she dotes upon her husband all the hours he is awake, until he begins to think of her as part of the scenery: the devoted wife, an essential part of all well-run households.

And one night, quietly, she undoes the spells around the genie’s lamp and lifts it into the dim candle-light and makes two wishes:

First, that Jafar shall desire nothing in the world so much as to please her in all ways.

Second, that Jafar and his parrot shall both henceforth obey any and all of her orders, no matter what those orders might be.

Then, smiling, she returns the genie’s lamp to its hiding place. If all goes well, perhaps she will free it one of these days, and earn its gratitude thereby. If all does not go well…she has another wish should that become necessary.

And now that she has her husband, the sorcerous sultan of Agrabah, entirely under her control…perhaps a genie will not be necessary in the future.

*

During the day, Jasmine dotes upon her husband, and since it makes her happy to fool everyone so thoroughly, Jafar plays along, pretending to be as cold and cruel to her as he has always been.

At night it is a different story entirely. It pleases her sometimes to whip him bloody, taking vengeance for her lover and her tiger and her father, and he submits to her blows with a strange deep pleasure; and the healing spell which erases the marks hurts worst of all, because it does not please her.

Other nights, she is pleased to put his clever, cruel tongue to better uses, and he kneels between her legs and makes her whimper and moan and cry out in wordless ecstasy, and spills upon the floor between her feet without a touch, so pleasant is the sensation of pleasing his wife. He goes to sleep with her juices sticky on his beard, and wakes to the scent of her, and to her thoroughly satisfied smile.

Some nights, she ties him to the bed and rides him, beautiful body swaying above him, skin gleaming in the candle-light, until she has found her pleasure as many times as she desires, and only then does she smile down at him, the sweet and genuine smile he only ever sees in private, and tells him, gently, that he may have his own completion.

She has toys, beautifully crafted works of art in perfectly obscene shapes (she never tells him where she finds them), and is sometimes pleased to use them on him, or on herself while he watches. She has scented oils and lotions, for massages (his clever hands, she points out, are best put to use soothing her sore back) and for more obscene uses. She has all manner of obscure and oddly-shaped tools, some of which are very pleasant, others of which are rather painful; but she is pleased when he reacts to all of them, and so all of them are worth submitting to.

Really, it is quite hard to remember what it was like before his wife became his queen.


End file.
